


Kiss Of The Devil

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Based On An American Horror Story Scene, Biting, Blood Magic, Breaking Celibacy Vows, Breeding, Catholic Cardinal Copia - Freeform, Catholic Guilt, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Copia Backstory, Demon Sex, Demonic Possession, Desperation, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Floor Sex, Gentle Sex, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lore - Freeform, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Mental Breakdown, Mild Blood, Multiple Orgasms, Occult, Premature Ejaculation, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Riding, Ritual Sex, Rituals, Secrets, Self-Denial, Sex Magic, Sexual Fantasy, Suicide (not Copia's), Summoning, Teen Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: "A man of high demonic standing lives in the Catholic church, kitten. He lives as a humble, celibate Cardinal, and as he has been raised in the false faith of God, the bloodline of the antichrist is in danger of ending with him. We can’t let this happen, can we?”“No, Papa.”"Then step into the circle, Sister. We have much work to do."
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Original Female Character(s), Cardinal Copia/Satan, Cardinal Copia/Sister(s) of Sin, Papa Emeritus II/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Kiss Of The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I'm particularly proud of this one, I think it may be my favourite Ghost fic I've written! It started as a smut based on the Timothy/Mary Eunice scene from AHS Asylum, but grew from there into a full sort of story. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It had charmed her with a single word. 

The cross bearing a crucified saviour hung above her bed, as plain as every other that hung in the bedrooms save for the ornate statue in the chapel. Depictions of Him hung all over her walls, watching with solemn eyes, eyes that she imagined came alive at night. She felt trapped inside the bedroom, frightened as she slept. The eyes were always on her.

Sister Mariella had been kneeling by her bed, saying her nighttime prayers and crossing herself when she had heard it. A soft, _“Veni...”_ Turning around as the rosary in her hands began to tremble, she saw a pair of red eyes glowing in the dark corner behind her. She should have been filled with fear at the sight, but she was alarmed and more than a little disturbed to find that she only felt excitement.

 _“I know you’ve been thinking of leaving the church, child,”_ it hissed, as Mariella watched with growing interest. _“Why not do it tonight?”_

The devout 19 year old should have known the devil would send his demons to test her at her weakest; she had been warned time and time again by Sister Rosa that the time would come when her daydreaming would get her into trouble, and she would have to put her faith in God. It wasn’t Jesus she had to be frightened of, no matter how hard he stared. Now however, as her moment of reckoning came upon her, all she could think about was how this demon’s tongue would feel inside her. She licked her lips absently, before catching herself.

 _“I know what you think of me,”_ the demon chuckled. _“I like it.”_

“Padre nostro, che sei nei cieli, sia santificato il tuo nome—”

“Enough of that, girl!” Mariella was startled silent as the shadowed creature of Hell stalked out of the corner and toward her. Its inhale sounded like sharp nails dragging up tin. “Do you want me?”

The timid young woman could do nothing but nod, because she did. Seconds later, claws were digging into her pale, freckled shoulders, past the point of return in a snuff of sulfur.

* * *

9 months later, Mariella gave birth to a healthy baby boy. She had all but forced the memory of what had impregnated her out of her mind, and convinced all the other Sisters in the abbey that a passing priest had done to her it late one night, and that she had been given no choice but to obey.

Sister Rosa was kinder than most within the Catholic faith, so based on the story she had given of this imaginary priest’s wickedness, she had allowed Mariella shelter. The baby boy would be this convent’s secret, and theirs alone. After all, God celebrates the giving of life.

“Samaelo Copia,” she breathed, looking down at the small freckled bundle with love. He didn’t cry—only stared up at her with wonder in those little green eyes.

When it came time to baptize him, everyone gathered around the tub in the chapel. Mariella watched as the strangely quiet baby was slowly lowered into the water. Then, she watched in horror as steam began to rise from the tub, and haunting wails pierced the reverent silence around them as Sisters pointed and gasped and screamed. Copia emerged from the holy water in Sister Rosa’s arms with red, burning skin, yet he still didn’t cry. The young nun took a few steps back as the buried memories hit.

She had been defiled. She had let herself be defiled. She had readily welcomed a beast of Hell between her legs, and this was the result. This baby, this seed of evil. The eyes, they were on her again. She could feel them from all angles, they were everywhere, unforgiving. Inundated all at once with urges to drown the boy, set fire to the church to forget or worse, she stumbled back and fled from the chapel.

“Poor girl,” the Mother Superior sighed, rocking a distraught-looking Copia in her arms as she watched after Mariella. She tsked, and looked down at the baby. “No matter how sweet its fruit may be, the tree of sin is rotten at the roots.” 

They found young Mariella hanging from a rope the next day, attached to the west steeple on the Fede Di Cristo church’s roof.

Swaying in the breeze of the evening, her purpled feet dangled and her habitless auburn hair hung loosely against her face. The convent gasped and cried and hid their face. Sister Rosa looked from the mother’s lifeless eyes down to the wide green ones of the curious baby in her arms.

“You’ll stay with us, and forget that you were born of sin. You’re a bright little one—the Lord’s light will live strong in you as you grow and dedicate your life to the Church.”

Quiet little Copia began to cry.

* * *

** 45 years later **

Rain pummeled the roof of the Emeritus Church as a thunderstorm raged. It was apt weather for the deed transpiring within.

Down the papal corridor and in the very last room on the left, glowing candlelight flooded out into the hallway as a figure walked down it.

“Come,” Papa Emeritus the Second commanded the waiting Sister of Sin. She stepped forward into his bedroom, where he was enjoying a glass of wine on his green velvet sofa. He was facing away, but the Sister knew to approach anyway. His room was dark, save for black candles flickering, casting shadows on the walls of all the eerie curiosities in the Second’s bedroom. She took one look down to the source of light, noticing the red and white chime candles that accompanied the dwindling black pillars. A spell, then.

Standing before him, the powerful leader patted the seat beside him on the velvet couch. The Sister, beautiful and seductive, made herself comfortable by draping herself over Papa’s arm with a feline purr. He didn’t make a move to remove her.

“Sister Tempest,” he said. She glanced over to see that his expensive coffee table had been moved, and in place of it on the floor, a large pentagram had been drawn in blood with more candles burning around the perimeter and an incense boat prepared. He gestured to it with his glass, before taking a sip. “You know what this is, hm?”

“I do, Papa,” she smiled. He gave her thigh a stroke.

“Good little kitten. Then you know what I am about to ask of you, and what it entails.” Tempest took the liberty of standing, removing her clothes.

“You don’t have to ask.” She let herself down over top of the bloody sigil, bare to him.

“Good girl. You have been chosen for a very important task, you know.” He stood and opened an ancient looking book, gloved finger finding the spot on the marked page he was looking for. “You will be ridden by the Olde One Himself, and become the Prime Mover who will birth the Antichrist.” It was all Tempest could do not to moan, and Papa nodded. “An honour only bestowed upon the strongest of our flock.” She exhaled her lust, squirming under Papa’s domineering gaze from above. “You will be sent on your way to a Catholic church in Italy. A man of high demonic standing lives there, kitten.”

“Truly, Papa?”

“Truly, kitten. He does not know this however. He lives as a humble, celibate Cardinal, and as he has been raised in the false faith of God, the bloodline of the antichrist is in danger of ending with him. We can’t let this happen, can we?”

“No, Papa.”

“No,” he hummed. “The Olde One will ensure you give birth to the next in His line. You do agree to this shared autonomy of your body?” She took an assured breath.

“With all my being, I do.” Papa glanced over the Sister’s naked body appreciatively, Tempest parting her legs for him. With a small smile, the Papa began to read the incantation, as the candles glowed brighter. A sensation akin to an orgasm began to build in her lower belly, until she felt as though she had been granted eternal pleasure, each nerve in her body lighting up and refusing to cease firing. Papa watched closely with those darkened eyes as he read and weaved his fingers in and out of the heady incense smoke filling the air. She began to lose herself in the pleasure, giving herself freely to be ridden. The next phase of the ritual was set to begin.

Removing his robes slowly, Tempest saw that the Second was bare to her under his chasuble. Staring down in lust, she admired the hard cock jutting from the patch of dark hair, and she only opened her legs wider for it. He got on his hands and knees before laying himself atop her, cleansing himself in the blood as she had. With a smooth pump, Papa easily buried each thick inch of his cock into the dripping vessel of pleasure, stroking her leg as he waited for her to adjust to his size. Her cunt felt so wet and warm around him, as it always did when he fucked the beautiful Sister in his own time. Tempest’s legs wrapped around Papa’s backside, the goat’s blood from the floor dripping from her toes as her feet shook with every deep, slow thrust. Their shared bliss would bring forth the entity Papa was conjuring, in an offering of sexual energy.

No words of encouragement or enticement were exchanged to preserve the dignity of the ritual, but their heaved breaths and clawing hands left nothing unsaid. As Papa masterfully found that spot deep inside her, Tempest bit down into his shoulder, drawing blood. Papa groaned, hands rubbing down to hold her thighs apart and take him as deep as she could. Although he wished to return the pain he knew she loved, this was not for their enjoyment. He must preserve the majesty of the vessel.

In seconds, her breath began to hurry in light, airy sighs, and her head fell back into the blood. The dripping array of candles around them began to glow brighter, and Papa rolled his hips in short, fast pumps to bring her as close as he could without finishing just yet.

“Gaudium tibi unum vocamus,” he began to speak, sitting up on his knees and fucking into Tempest as she spread herself out to touch each end of the five pointed star. “—Et in peregrinatione nostra,” he went on, growling the words, “In sensationibus corporis exercitum de femina.” A soft moan escaped her lips, supple breasts rising with every swell of her breath. The older man looked down to the woman in her prime, and she met his eye. His mouth was open in an arousing snarl, glaring down with blood dripping down over his face and mixing with his paint. Her head hit the floor as Papa gripped onto her legs and growled out his release. The candles surged red for a moment as Papa’s cock throbbed with the stream of his seed inside of her. When Tempest felt her own orgasm crash over her, the candlefire burned down each point of the star until it stopped right before the two, flared brilliantly, and dulled down to flickering black flame. Papa was quick to take his leave, making himself modest again once he had given what he had to and the offering had been made.

Before him, the devil stood in the naked body of a gorgeous woman. Dragging a long, slender finger through the blood dripping down her tits, she brought it to her lips and let it pop. Papa fell to his knees in reverence, whispering blasphemy into clasped hands. She patted The Second on the head as she sauntered past and picked up her discarded habit.

“Deinceps ad peccatum,” she drawled, and opened the door.

* * *

Samaelo Copia finally closed the book of the old Italian sermons he had transcribed. The original parchments dated back to the 1300s, when men much older than him would have delivered them to lost souls in need of a saviour; the thought warmed Copia. These transcriptions had been entrusted to him, who was known for his care and soft touch, to preserve the dignity of the word of God.

Sighing to himself, the middle aged Cardinal got up from his hunched position over his desk, and hooked his tired finger through the candlestick. It had been many hours of work today, and his back and hand needed a break. Shuffling over to his modest single bed, he set the candle down on his night table, took a sip of water, and finally allowed himself to relax into bed. Slipping off his cassock, he silently wondered why, as he did every night, he felt the need to wear it in the privacy of his own bedroom while working.

 _God is always watching, and he is always judging_ , Copia heard Sister Rosa’s voice in his head, reminding him strictly of that very sentiment just about every day. Even though she had passed away some 15 years ago at a ripe old age, it seemed Copia couldn’t quite shake the old nun’s teachings.

The man settled under his sheets with a contended sigh, blew out the candle, and diligently resisted the dull throb between his legs as he did every night. There had been some few nights of weakness over the years—of course there had, and he had prayed for forgiveness each time for them—but he tried to stay strong and avoid the touch of the flesh as much as a man possibly could. Tonight it wasn’t easy, as it was a particularly insistent pull of temptation. The irritating tingle ran deep from his belly to the tip of the cock he had sworn never to use in carnal indulgence. Copia had found ways over the years of taking his mind off of the sin of self pleasure however, no matter how deprived he was, and how bitter he became from it. 

He found himself thinking about his mother instead, as he did every night. He had little else to think about after all, other than the rat he had saved from the cleaver last year in the kitchen, who he now kept in a box, or maybe the painting of the Virgin Mary Sister Unella was restoring in the chapel. But his mother. Mariella Copia, the disgraced nun of Fede Di Cristo. If she hadn’t run off with a travelling priest as Rosa had told him she had, he might not have been such a lonely boy growing up. He wondered if she was still alive today—she had him quite young, he was told.

“Ai,” he suddenly muttered, catching himself before he could let out a curse. “I have forgotten my prayers.” He shook his head as he heaved his exhausted body out of bed, kneeling down at the bedside to connect his palms. “You are a Cardinal in the Catholic Church, Copia. How could you forget your nightly praises, eh? Ai, ai, _stupido ometto._ ” He tsked at himself as he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and focused on the words that were so practiced by now that they were habitual. His tongue darted out over his lips as his neglected cock bobbed and grazed against his thigh in his kneeling position. Squeezing his eyes shut even tighter, Copia ignored the growing arousal in favour of a Glory Be.

“Gloria al Padre e al Figlio e allo Spirito Santo.” Exhaling a whimper, he prayed the debilitating ache in his testes away. Why was he challenged nightly with such an active _drive_ when he could do nothing about it? God worked in mysterious and often infuriating ways, that much was certain.

His cockhead began to bead, he could feel it, as the ache began to travel. Even untouched, it was beginning to become evident he was going to reach orgasm in his pants simply from utter lack of attention. He hadn’t allowed himself the release in almost six months now, and at this point, even the slightest brush of cloth against him would be enough to commit the sin. _No, no, no, stop. Stop. I am stronger than this body._ “Come era nel principio, ora e sempre...” Copia forced on, but he began to white knuckle the bed frame as the throbbing just wouldn’t stop. Unable to stop himself, he let out a sharp gasp as his cock jerked once in his pants and he felt the wetness spread. 

Like an animal out of control, he couldn’t help but hump himself urgently against the bed through the blissful feeling, hips circling as he let out the desperate moans of a deprived man. When he lifted his head, his eyes pricked with tears. Letting one slip, he held his forehead against the mattress and sobbed softly into the sheets at the sticky mess pooling between his legs. Why couldn’t he have controlled himself? Was he so pathetic that he couldn’t resist the temptation of sin? No wonder the Church kept him hidden away in the libraries transcribing. Someone as wicked as he would never do as a priest here.

“Hurry up before you embarrass yourself further. _Nei secoli dei secoli...”_ he continued on miserably, determined to put tonight behind him and just go to bed. He trailed off however as he noticed something. Everything in the room had grown quiet. Quieter than quiet. A decibel below silence. All Copia could hear was his own heavy breathing from what he had just done. 

“Evening, good looking.”

Copia nearly went through the roof. Launching himself back up on his bed, he turned to the source of the voice. Narrowing his eyes, they adjusted to the dark in record time to the figure slinking forward out of the shadows. All at once, a wave of heat filled him, and some sort of powerful sensation seemed to make him dizzy and nauseas.

“Tu chi sei?” he managed out, cautiously.

“Penso che tu lo sappia,” the mysterious Sister grinned. “I think you know, Cardinal.”

“I don’t,” he murmured, settling against his headboard. She shrugged.

“Okay. Have it your way. Pleased to meet you. I’m the Olde One, the eater of worlds, the bringer of light, the keeper of all coveted wisdom and the fallen deity, ruler of the realm of the damned.” She stepped further into the light, blinking innocently at Copia. “But you can just call me Satan.”

“It can’t be,” Copia muttered. She—or it, the infernal beast— wore a nun’s habit, but it was all black. Her skin almost shone, long hair cascading down her arms around full breasts that really did nothing to help Copia’s situation. He found himself staring at them, never having seen any that pronounced or flaunted.

“I know you’ve never been this close to royalty before,” she went on, “And there’s not much you can do to show respect. You could start by... oh, I don’t know. Falling to your knees and kissing my boots?”

“I am a man of God, si?” he hissed. “You are vile. Evil. _Repugnant_.” He stifled a groan as she giggled, those soft breasts moving as she did.

“Stop, you’re making me blush. Is that what all these crazy old broads have told you?” she snorted, brushing her hair aside. “Figures. You’re a smart man, Cardinal. Why don’t you finally let go and think for yourself? I can feel a little thought trying to wiggle its way through... what’s that, hm?” She paused, eyebrows raising. “Oh. Very nice of you to think of me like that.”

Copia exhaled. “N...No. I swear to God I wasn’t, per favore—”

“God’s not home,” she snapped. “I have something better for you. Something a little more in line with that fantasy you just had.” She lifted up her habit to show the shocked Cardinal her bare pussy, a light tuft of hair crowning the forbidden fruit Copia had dreamt of but never gotten to experience. He averted his eyes and swallowed as his erection twitched in his pants. “Mmm,” she smiled triumphantly. “Look at that. You think her kitty’s pretty? It’s nice and wet, if you want a taste.”

“ _Oh_. I,” he tried to sound confident, “I cannot—”

“Sh, sh. I can see it’s too much too soon for someone like you. That’s alright! You’ve got years of sexual misery to catch up on, I know. Here— I’ve got a joke to lighten the mood.” Copia exhaled in fear. “There was a priest, the dirty beast, whose name was Alexander.” The Sister knelt on the edge of the bed, crawling forward to the heaving Copia. She grinned wolfishly. “His mighty dick was inches thick, he called it Salamander.”

“Why... are you here?” the Cardinal breathed out desperately, eyelids fluttering. “What did you come for? It is because I...” He looked down, shame evident in his face. “Because I had the impure thoughts, eh? Because I came?”

“Mm, I didn’t know about that part, but I’m proud of you. No, I came to tempt you,” she replied sharply, tilting his chin up so their eyes met. “Isn’t it obvious?” Her voice dipped low, pouring over Copia like honey. “And this time, you don’t have to force those thoughts away. I know you have them. I know you wanted to take a lick of my pussy when I showed it to you.” She glanced down with a lascivious grin as he squirmed. “She tastes real nice, you know. So sweet. Like nectar.” His stomach jolted, and he let out a soft whine. “Now about that poem. Is yours inches think, Cardinal?” She cupped him through his pants firmly, and his cock jumped back to life from it almost miraculously fast. Copia clutched at the side of his bed at the touch. It was almost too much again.

“Stop it. Please—”

“Mm. Your body disagrees.” He couldn’t help the moan that slipped out.

“I... took a vow, non farlo, non farlo...”

“You don’t sound very sure of yourself, Cardinal,” she purred, starting to work her hand up and down his length through his pants. “I know how much you want me. If those half lidded, slutty eyes of yours weren’t enough, do remember, I can read your mind.” Copia gasped, mouth falling open and head falling back.

“Per favore...” His mind began to disconnect from his words as soon as the beautiful Sister began to slide her habit down to reveal luscious breasts. “Don’t... do this to me... don’t lead me away from the Lord...” Her eyes flashed a flicker of an orange flame.

“What’s the Lord done for you lately?” she growled, dragging her teeth down his neck. Copia’s adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to draw a steady breath in, but she kept stroking him.

“He keeps me good. He keeps me... in the light.” At this, the infernal Sister smiles.

“Hmm. And you can feel the darkness inside of you, can’t you, Copia?” She grazed her lips over his cheek, just barely touching his mustache. “It threatens to take over whenever you let your guard down, to claw its way out of the pit you’ve buried it in. Do you know what happened to your mother?” Copia was surprised by the question.

“She ran away with the man who impregnated her.”

“That’s a filthy lie,” she hissed in his ear, replacing her hand with her wet panties to grind down against his bulge. “I thought lying was a sin in the church. You bunch of dirty hypocrites.” Copia let out an airy moan. “I’ll tell you what happened to your mother. She finally broke free of this stone aged mindset and let herself indulge one night. She called upon one of us.”

“No!”

“Yes. But Catholic guilt is a poison, and it worked its way through her after the, uh...” she smiled, tickling his nose. “Seed had been planted.”

“What are you saying?” Copia panted.

“I think you know exactly what I’m saying.” Copia didn’t have the time or wherewithal to give in to his shock. With a wanton whimper, his hips gently rose up to meet her warm cunt. “You like that, baby?”

“I can’t...”

“Nervous ‘cause it’s your first time?” She stroked down his stomach. “This is your first time, right?”

Copia’s cheeks tinged pink. “ _Yes_.”

“It’s okay. I’ll make you feel good, baby.” Copia’s cock throbbed under her. “Don’t you want to feel what it’s like?” She wiggled her hips down, reaching one hand to undo his pants. He bucked again as she slid her hand in to take his hardness in hand, and take it out. "Tight balls. Nice, long cock. Oh, this has been wasted for too long." He hissed as it hit the cool air, but it didn’t remain for long. “So haven’t you wondered? Dreamed of it? You can’t tell me you’ve never taken yourself in hand at night... maybe even outside of your bedroom. Hm? In the hallway, where nobody can hear you?” She lifted up, teasing her pussy just barely over his tip. Copia let out a desperate grunt, but she teased her way down, inch by inch. “Was your cock so fucking hard, you had to take care of yourself there or you would...” She made a popping noise with her lips. “Make an awful mess of yourself in front of your precious God?”

“I have...” Copia managed out, “Touched myself... but never outside of this room. I have at least a little bit... of self control, ah!”

“But you thought about it.” She smirked. “Remember. I’m the devil—I know everything. And I know you spent an entire week wondering how it would feel to get your cock sucked in the chapel during mass.” Copia’s chest heaved as he let out a whine, but the Sister was quick to hush him. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t do shame. I like the way you think.” She gave a flirtatious laugh that sounded a lot deeper as it echoed, and finally sat down fully around Copia’s erection.

“ _Ahhh_...”

“Oh, there we go. How does that feel? Nice and warm, like you expected?”

“Better!” Copia shook his head insistently. “Ah, _merda_! You are so beautiful, so wicked... why do you make me choose between this and what I have worked my whole life toward?”

“Because one is keeping you from reaching your full potential.” She squeezed around him, and leaned down to drag her breasts over his face and whisper in his ear. “ _You’re something special where I come from_.” Copia’s hands flew to her hips, and he let out a cry as he began to throb inside of her. “Did you ever wonder how it would feel to fill someone up with your seed?” she moaned, riding the sweating man into the mattress. “So much wasted over the years. Now you have a chance to claim a woman. Do you want to breed me, Cardinal?” She took his hand, sliding it up from her hipbone to her stomach. His fingers rubbed on their own. “Do you want to see this belly swollen with your child? Your very own progeny?”

“Si... si, I have wondered... it is natural to think of these things... but... but I can’t father children. My body belongs to—ah, CHRIST!”

“Strike one, you took the Lord’s name in vain.”

“I think that is not the first strike tonight,” Copia had the wit to retort, wiping his forehead with his wrist. “Oh, you have to stop before I...”

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_.” She paused her movements, but Copia lost control, hands clambering up her back and pulling her down to him. “No, ai don’t stop, I want it, I want you!”

Her chuckle seemed to fill the room. “Yeah, fuck me,” she whispered, sliding her long tongue up his chin and over his lips. Copia could have sworn it was forked, but he didn’t care any longer. He captured her in a kiss and began to rock up into her as he began to lose control over his body and his primal instincts took over. “Fill me, Cardinal! Fuck your seed into me, tell me how good this pussy feels.”

“So good!”

“Don’t do it yet, don’t, wait—”

“I’m s... so... sorry—I can’t... last any for y... ah!” His arms flew down to grab the sheets as his entire body spasmed, likely the strongest orgasm he’d experienced in his life wracking his body. His hips shook and jolted as he emptied himself deep into her, her rotating hips milking every last drop from the Cardinal. When she was sure he was finished and only shivering from the aftershocks, she sighed, and got off of him. Her long fingernails trailed up to her stomach, and Copia blinked his eyes open long enough to get a glimpse of the tendrils of shadow her hair had become. Her eyes began to glow an ethereal yellow, as Copia reached out to her to stay.

“Ah, ah. Sorry to love and leave, sweetheart. I got what I came for.” She rubbed her stomach. “I know this was your first time and all, but I’ve got places to be.” She took his hand, brought her lips down as if to kiss his hand but licked it instead. Closing something into his palm, she drew back. “If you’re looking for a good time... you know where to find me. You know where to find us _, if you wish to live deliciously_.” Copia watched in transfixion as the Sister bled back into the shadows and disappeared into the darkness before his eyes. He was shaken from his awe as the pendant left in his hand began to burn his skin—he dropped it onto the soiled sheets with a yelp, and studied the silver. It seemed to be an inverted cross, with a G over the center of it. He knew he had seen it before somewhere, and he knew he needed to find out where.

Gazing thoughtfully out the window at the moon as his cock lay soft and sated against his thigh, Copia’s guilt was eclipsed by the feeling of satisfaction and elation at last, and a sense of purpose he couldn’t stifle so easily this time.


End file.
